We seek him here, we seek him there,
Those Frenchies seek him everywhere.
Is he in heaven?— Is he in hell?
That demmed, elusive Pimpernel.
La! Odd's fish! Begad, and strike me for a lupin! but I've been
meaning to read this book for the longest time. It's just one of those
things - apart from hearing a few cultural references and mistakenly
reading one of the sequels, I've somehow managed to avoid The Scarlet Pimpernel in all its manifestations.
This
is the book that sets the scene for the series. Paris 1792. The Reign
of Terror is in full swing. The tumbrel business has never been so
good as a seemingly endless supply of French aristocrats and their
families meet their appointment with Madame la Guillotine. Well, except
those who are rescued in spectacularly inventive ways and whisked away
to safe haven in London by an anonymous mastermind and master of disguise known as the Scarlet
Pimpernel. So successful is the Pimpernel, the French authorities send
their agent Chauvelin to England to unmask and neutralise him or her.
The Scarlet Pimpernel is a far better book than its third sequel, Eldorado. While it suffers from the same defects as the sequel - mildly purple prose, slow action by modern standards, and the narrator telling rather than showing us the action/characters' internal state - it is inventive and charming in its own way. There is much interest in seeing how the main characters get themselves out of the trouble that is either devised for them or is of their own making.
Not the greatest book in the world, but it is certainly one that helps while away a wet weekend enjoyably.
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